


Confrontation

by ChocolateCannibal



Series: The Lion and The Lynx [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arguments, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Humor, Pre-Relationship, Snark, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:16:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateCannibal/pseuds/ChocolateCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen should have been irritated. He wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically part two of the series.

Joesphine and Leliana giggled and glanced furtively in his direction multiple times during the war council. Cullen ignored them because he had more important matters to worry about, like missing soldiers, a hole in the sky, and… No, never mind that last thing.

“I believe that concludes our meeting,” the Spymaster declared. Before the Commander could react, she and Josephine disappeared through the door, leaving him alone with the Herald. Wonderful. Cullen gathered the thick stack of reports with a weary sigh and walked to the exit, when a voice stopped him.

“Commander, a word?”

Well, this was unexpected. He could swear she had been avoiding him since… Since they met, really.

“Of course, Herald.”

She crossed her arms, tilted her head, and quirked a brow. “Do we have a problem?”

Cullen recalled a different conversation with another mage that began with the same question. The Orlesians had a phrase for this unsettling feeling- one he could never remember or pronounce. He shook his head and forced himself back to the present.

“We have several problems, actually. They were discussed at length in the meeting, but if you require elaboration-“

“No, not that,” she interrupted, “You know I don’t care about any of that.”

“I know of no such thing!”

“Right. What I’m really asking is if _you_ have a problem with _me_ -”

“The fate of Thedas rests in your hands, _hand_ , and you’re telling me you _don’t care_ about-“

“-because I’m a mage and you’re a Templar-“

“Ex-Templar, and-”

“Okay, let’s say I was joking about that, uh, not caring thing.”

Cullen squinted as he processed this. “I should hope so,” he could never tell if she was serious, about anything, _ever_ , “No, I don’t mind that you’re a mage.”

“So it’s because I’m a Trevelyan. You think I’m a spoiled little rich girl and honestly, I’d be hard pressed to disagree.”

“What- Why would- No!”

“It must be the hair, then-” he shook his head “-No? The eyes? Believe me, I find it all just as off-putting as you do, but it’s no reason to _stare_ like that.”

“Ah,” Cullen flushed darkly and rubbed the back of his neck, mortified, “So you noticed. Forgive me.”

The Herald rolled her eyes, but seemed to deflate slightly. “Just tell me why.”

“You- you remind me of someone I-” once found heart-wrenchingly beautiful and irresistibly fascinating “-knew.”

“Who?” It was less a question than an accusation.

“Warden-Commander Amell,” at her blank look, he amended “The Hero of Ferelden.”

If possible, the Herald glared even more furiously. “Because we’re both mages.”

“No- I mean, yes-” and clearly, that was the wrong thing to say “-That- that’s part of it, but there’s more. You actually… There’s something about your eyes, the shape of your nose and the way you speak and walk that-” He needed to stop rambling “-It’s just an uncanny resemblance. Apologies, Herald.”

“Hmph,” she huffed, “Well in case you were wondering, I don’t like it. Not just the staring, but all of it. The whole Templar thing,” he opened his mouth to object “Okay, the _ex_ -Templar thing, in addition to the scowling, the armor,” Cullen glanced down self-consciously, “your face, the way you’re always _commanding_ people-”

“My face,” that one seemed overtly personal “What’s wrong with my-” No, best leave it be. Bigger fish, Cullen “-I am doing my job. I’m the _Commander_. It is _literally_ my job to command people.”

“You’re _scary_ , that’s what you are,” she jabbed her finger at his chest plate a little too hard and flinched, shaking out her hand, “The glaring, staring, whatever… If you absolutely must, try to be a little more subtle.”

Cullen set the reports on the war table and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt the beginnings of a migraine along with the inexplicable, totally contradictory impulse to chuckle. The Herald was being frustrating, so the Commander was frustrated. That part made sense. What he couldn’t understand was the odd feeling that this was… Fun, somehow. Having this ridiculous fight. With her. A stranger, no matter how familiar.

“I-I was not-“ He didn’t even know where to begin. It was probably best not to bother at this point. “-Alright, Ame-” Maker’s breath, Cullen. Get a grip! “- _Herald_. I’ll try not to look at you again,” at her expression, he added, “You know what I mean.”

“I should hope so,” the corners of her mouth twitched upward briefly before resuming their frown, “Thank you for not smiting me. Good day, Temp- _Commander_.”

She stormed off before he could say anything, not that there was anything he _could_ say to… All of that. Whatever the Void that was.  

Cullen should have been profoundly offended and on some level, he probably was. But, for some reason, he found himself smiling like a fool with something dangerously close to affection bubbling in his chest.

The Herald sought him out the next day on the training grounds. She wanted to know more about the Templar order because (in her words) “You can’t all be _that_ scary.”

“Do Templars take vows? ‘I swear to the maker to watch all mages’- That sort of thing?”

He told her about the vigil.

“Are Templars also expected to give up…” She glanced at her feet, seemingly searching for words, then up at him “Physical temptations?”

“Physical? Why...” Was she on to him? He could not have been _that_ obvious about it. Could he? “Why would you…” No, no. The Herald was probably just curious. Right. So, Cullen managed to answer with minimal stuttering. “…Some may choose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it’s, um, not required.”

“Have you?”

Has he- had he what? She couldn’t _possibly_ be asking if-

“Me? I… Um… No, I’ve taken no such vows-” Though he did consider it, for a time “-Maker’s _breath_ , can we speak of something else?”

“There are few things in Thedas _less_ terrifying than a thirty-year-old virgin. Varric owes me money,” the Herald mused.

Cullen couldn’t disagree, but he didn’t see how that was relevant to the present conversation.

And then, he did.

“What did you- what are you implying?”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

He would have believed her if not for the telltale quirk of her lips.

“Yes you did, and I will have you know that I am _not_ a-”

She took a step back and turned on her heel. “Right. I believe you-” another blatant lie“-That’s… All I wanted to know. Thank you. Good day, Commander.”

“Where are you going? Wait, what do you _mean_ Varric owes you-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lara called over her shoulder, leaving the Commander alone to blush, stutter, and try _not_ to smile. Once again, it occurred to him that he should be offended.

When it came to the Herald, what he was and what he should have been were two completely different things.

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon: Trevelyan reminds Cullen of Amell. She mistakes his initial fascination/infatuation for animosity.  
> Edit: I changed the title and summary when I realized they didn't suit this fic; original title was "Deja Vu," summary: "In which Cullen develops inappropriate feelings for a mage. Again."   
> Excuse: I drank a lot of wine.


End file.
